


Always

by Japonicastar



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:55:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Japonicastar/pseuds/Japonicastar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lily, James, Sirius, Harry and Remus, all very different people narrating an event, which occurs after Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. Sirius is desperate to get back to Harry, the question is; will he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Petals in the wind

Always by Japonicastar

 _On my mother's desk sat a snow globe. Inside sat a dainty house and a snowman adorned with bright clothes. When I was young my mother would pull me onto her lap and shake the snow globe. The two of us would then watch the snow descend slowly around the snowman. He was all-alone in there, and I used to think him lonely. I told my mother this and she said, "Don't worry Lily; he's having a nice life. He's trapped in a perfect world."_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter one: Petals in the wind.

My name was Potter, like the fields; first name Lily. I was twenty-one when I was murdered on the thirty-first of October 1981. When I first died there was chaos in the wizarding world. I died to sacrifice my son, who in turn defeated my murderer. My son was fifteen months old at the time. He defeated one of the strongest Dark wizards that have ever existed. But I'm sure you know the story, Harry Potter's story is world famous after all. So you must know about the lightning bolt scar that lands my son in so much trouble? Yes? Good. That must mean you know how my husband and I died.

I fought hard before I died. I fought as hard as I could so that he wouldn't hurt Harry. I pleaded and screamed obscenities at Him. I thought it was the worst thing in the world to know that my husband James was dead downstairs and a deranged mass murderer was pointing his wand at my baby, the killing curse on his lips. I could have yelled for hours. I knew he was going to kill me if I didn't move out of his way. I did not realise that I was an animal already dieing. But I didn't move and that caused me to die and my dear son to live.

When I first entered heaven I thought everyone saw what I saw. That everyone's heaven included Quidditch hoop posts in the distance and large lumbering women with numerous amounts of shopping bags and junk food in podgy hands. That all the houses were like the suburban houses that I had adored and watched from afar during my childhood. They were large buildings, gloomily landscaped with lots of open space to make them feel modern. My favourite part was the fields of delicate wildflowers that always bloomed and never died.

On Earth I had imagined myself staying at home and looking after Harry and welcoming all of James' irrepressible friends into the house to help look after our son. Then after Harry started Hogwarts I imagined myself getting a job in the ministry, something in the research department perhaps. These were my dreams on Earth.

After a few days in my heaven I realised that the quidditch players and the obese women and even James were all in their own version of heaven. Theirs just fit mine- didn't duplicate it precisely, but had a lot of similar things inside.

I met James on my third day of being here. He was sitting on the stands of the Quidditch pitch watching the others play.

"Hey."

"Oh god Lily. You shouldn't be here."

I buried my face in ink black hair. It was glossy like the models promised in muggle magazines.

"Do you like it here?"

"No."

"Me either."

So it began. We had been given our heavens, our simplest dreams. All we had to do was to desire something, and if you desired it enough it would come. It seemed so simple and I suppose it is. It was how James and I obtained a house that looked like Godric's Hollow before it had been destroyed.

I had hated the house I grew up in, on Earth. It was a two-bed-roomed terrace house in Sheffield. I had to share with my sister and I hated her too. I hated my parents' furniture and how our house looked onto another, and another, and another- an echo of identicalness going up the knoll.

Our house in heaven looked out onto a park, and in the distance we could see the lights of other houses. Close enough, but not too far.

Eventually I began to desire more. What I found strange was that I desired things that I had not wanted on Earth. I wanted to be allowed to grow up and grow old.

"People mature by living." I said to a neighbour. "I want to live."

"That's out." She said.

"Can we at least watch the living?" James asked.

"You already do." We had watched Harry being taken to my sister's. We had watched Sirius being taken to Azkaban. We had watched Remus sobbing all alone. We were heartbroken.

"I think he means whole lives." I said, "from the beginning to the end, to see how they did it. To know the secrets. Then we can pretend that we're really with them."

"You won't experience it." The neighbour clarified.

James and I walked the paths out of the village. Sometimes James looked as though he wasn't paying attention. Other times he was gone when I looked for him. I missed him then, but it was an odd sort of missing because by then, I knew the meaning of forever.

I could not have what I wanted most: Voldemort destroyed, unable to return and me and James living. Heaven wasn't perfect. But I came to believe that if I watched closely and desired, I might change the lives of whom I loved on Earth.

The years past by on Earth, people we had known gave life to the next generation some became frail and died. But it was many years until someone who had been close to us, appeared in front of our son. It was exactly ten years since Harry had been shown he was cared for and needed. Hagrid, Dumbledore, Harry's friends gave him hope, and showed him he was indeed worth something.

Then Sirius wandered into his life. After they got over their initial meeting, Sirius became the person who he had been when we had appointed him guardianship of Harry. He adored his Godson and did _everything_ to try and make sure Harry was kept healthy and happy. And even though Harry rarely showed it, he loved and relied on his Godfather.

Of course, Harry's life is never settled. That scar of his landed him in trouble again, and Harry paid the price, losing the person he had come to think of as a father, a brother and a friend.

In the first time in fourteen years Sirius Padfoot Black and James Prongs Potter embraced. My husband gained his best friend my son lost his. It isn't fair, but then I suppose life isn't fair. Don't get me wrong; I love Sirius and his mischievous ways and I like seeing him and James cheerful but I'd rather him alive, than stuck here.

Sirius hasn't seen Harry since he died. He doesn't know how it hurts either when you finally get to see him. But he will. He's already shouted at James to let him see Harry he was adamant that he had to check up on my baby. But James is as stubborn as Sirius is and he has told him that we'd all go tomorrow. I can't say that I'm looking forward to it really. It's always lovely to see our son.... but it's torture all the same, not being able to touch him, hug him, tell him every things going to ok.


	2. A Sirius situation

We are standing in the middle of James and Lily's sitting room at the moment. Lily's in the kitchen clattering pans and cleaning lunch dishes away, James and I are playing miniature golf (an indoor version that Lily has banned). James has just transfigured a sock into a golf ball and has made a hole in the carpet. Lily will be thrilled I'm sure. Although of course why we're playing golf inside is my fault.

We're going to Earth to see Harry after lunch. I'm getting...well anxious I suppose. We are going to see Harry! And it isn't like I'm going to be able to hold him, or talk to him or anything; Lily's already drilled what will happen into my brain last night and I can tell she's worried about how I'm going to react.

I mean how would you react, when the last thing you saw of the teenager who is the closest person to a son you've ever had, in tears and hollering your name? I doubt most people could take it well at all, and personally I think I've responded pretty well to the inevitable "you're dead you won't be able to make physical contact with your Godson until he dies." Lecture I received as soon as I got here. I mean it took me long enough to convince James and Lily into letting me see Harry, and finally I'm going to able to see him, hopefully sooner than later.

Of course James hasn't changed since I last saw him and has decided that playing 'illegal' games in Lily's immaculate front room will help take my mind off 'the Harry situation'. I'm horribly tired though and when I looked in the mirror earlier I looked pinched and pallid. I am desperate to leave and to see Harry but James decided we needed to play a little game before we leave to 'calm my nerves'.

"Haha. Yes! Come on Padfoot concentrate! You're not going to let me win are you?" James was cackling after hitting the golf ball, into the ready-made hole after hitting it twice already. I had told him Lily would kill him for making holes in her flooring and turning her sofa cushions into flags, but James being James doesn't listen.

"Why are we still here? Can't we leave now? I wanna see Harry. Prongs come on. We'll play later." I swung and hit the ball like it was a swift moving bludger. Making the white sphere ricochet of walls and pictures. I know I'm acting like a whiny toddler but I don't care.

Appearing in the doorway Lily was growling. Pulling out her wand she stilled the ball and put the objects back into their original forms. "James I've told you not to play in the house. Sirius wants to leave. Lets just go." Emerald eyes glimmered with anger as she glared at her husband. "Now!" We left the house, with me chortling and James poking me in the ribs!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Our three forms shimmered into the smallest bedroom of four Privet Drive. We were unseen and unheard to everyone, which was a relief as James and I were making lots of noise arguing.   
"No Sirius. You can't talk to him or touch him. He won't even know you're there, why bother?" James groaned, brown eyes searching for his son.

"He might. I have to try. He has to know I'm still here for him." I moved toward the bed, where socked feet were poking out from under it.

"No! You're not allowed. He might sense us. Then what? He'll want to see you then Padfoot. He won't carry on with his life if he thinks you're there but he can't see you. Listen to reason Sirius."

"Enough." Lily moved between us, we were spitting sparks at each other with our eyes. "James, leave Sirius be. He just died and needs to watch his godson. I remember what you were like after we arrived here the first time. You talked to Harry; you tried to stroke his cheek. All we wanted to do was take him away. But we couldn't. We can't. Harry might sense us, yes I know its dangerous but...he's our baby. He loves us, he wants to know we're here." Lily sighed, looking ready to collapse on the floor.

"You miss him don't you?" I asked, watching as James pulled Lily against him and cuddled her.

"We come here as much as we can. We watch as he works, plays, does chores. But we never can speak to him. He doesn't notice us. He can't." Lily was watching Harry as she spoke. Harry was pulling out a battered notebook, and biro from under his bed; he threw it open and started to write hurriedly.

My eyes started to blur as I looked at Harry. He seemed to have grown again since I'd last seen him. But the most difference I saw, not including the hugely baggy hand-me-down clothes he was wearing or the pallor of his skin, were his eyes. Deep sorrow lay deep within them and the dark shadows under his eyes completed the stricken guise. Leaning over and observing what his son was writing James said, "He's writing about a dream."

"What?! Oh god if Voldemort's still sending him dreams I'm going to...well kill him isn't an option, but I'll make him pay if he upsets Harry!" I was babbling again, hesitant to get closer to Harry, his parents deserve to see him more than me.

"Oy Padfoot! Are you going to come closer and see if he's all right? This is what you've been waiting for since you got to heaven." James glanced at me and scowled at my expression. "Don't start Sirius. You deserve to observe him as much as we do."

Sighing and muttering under my breath, I crossed the diminutive bedroom to crouch beside my Godson. He was murmuring about something to Hedwig, who was watching her master with amber eyes, but as soon as I made to put my hand on his shoulder he stopped writing and glanced up.

"Oh my...he can sense you Padfoot, move! Quickly!" James cried grabbing my elbow and pulling me to my feet.

Harry stood up as well. Shaking his head, green eyes darting around the room, he spoke. "Sirius? Oh God, what's going on? Sirius are you here? Oh please Sirius be here..." His hair was flailing across his face and obscuring his eyes, where tears were forming behind his glasses. "Please Sirius. Padfoot. Snuffles. Oh God tell me you're here, show me, please just do something!"

Distress flowed through my veins. "Sirius come on we have to go! He can sense you! I don't know how, but he can. Come on we have to leave!" James was yelling. I know the rules; you can't be sensed, it could be dangerous to the metal health of the people involved; they might think you could come back to life. But just because I know the rules doesn't mean I have to like them; in frustration I growled and hit a nearby lamp. Of course I expected my hand to go right through it, which it did, but only after knocking the object to the floor with a resounding "smash".

Utter silence filled the room.

Lily and James gaped, to astounded to move. "You can't touch solid objects on Earth when you're dead. You can't do magic either. What in hell is going on?" Lily was stammering, trading looks with a bewildered James.

Harry stared at the lamp. Finally a minuscule smile crossed his face. "Hey Sirius." He said softly. "Thanks for showing me you're here. I....I love you Sirius and I wish you were here. But I know its impossible so I'll settle for knowing you're here watching me...If mum and dad are with you, or you see them, tell them I love them too and I miss them." He crossed the room and fell to his knees beside the broken lamp, tears streaming in rivulets down his cheeks.

'He's never told me he loved me before. I wish I were with you too Harry. I love you and I know that your parents do too.' I thought.

James pulled me to him. "Insane." He was muttering, grabbing hold of Lily's hand who was staring at her son, sheer sorrow evident in her eyes. ' Harry's eyes...' Although Harry's eyes seem full of shadows and anguish, Lily has never had that in them. Even before her death when they were being hunted down. But of course Harry's lost more and in a shorter amount of time. He's been through more than we will ever have to go through.

We shimmered back to the heavenly version of Godric's Hollow. I had one last look at my Godson. My heart contracted as he leaned over the shards of broken pottery and glass, his tears striking the fragments, making them glisten.

'I miss you Harry. I miss you so much it hurts.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I know the title is rather over used, but the way I see it is that it is a serious situation, I was just using a witticism. I started the chapter more light-heartedly than the first. It makes it slightly easier to read. Personally I think golf inside which Lily has specifically told James not to play, is funny!  
> Thank you all again, I hope you review and give me your opinions; I'll try my hardest to listen and take what you've said to heart.


	3. The Harry affair

I've been sat here for over half an hour now, just sitting looking at the shards of the ceramic lamp and broken light bulb. I asked Sirius if he was here and he showed me that he's watching me. I couldn't have wrecked the light; I was over by the bed.

Oh God! What am I going to do? Will anyone believe me if I told them. Who would?

Lupin! Remus Lupin was Sirius' best friend, he was my professor, and he'd believe me wouldn't he? I suppose there's no other way to find out except for to write to him. Good thing Hedwig's here really.

 _Dear Remus Lupin,_

 _I know I sent my last letter to you and the others only yesterday but...something has happened and I wanted to write to you about it. I'm not in trouble don't worry, its just that I think I sensed someone in my bedroom._

 _I've read in my Divination book that very few people can sense spirits but I'm sure I did. Let me explain._

 _I was sitting, leaning against my bed when I felt something . It was like the air had shifted and someone was about to touch my shoulder. I looked around and I couldn't see anyone but I could still feel someone there. So I stood up and looked around. Suddenly it hit me it had to be Sirius; it had to be him trying to contact me. So I spoke and said to show me he was there. And then from across the room my lamp shattered as if someone had bumped against the table and knocked it over._

 _After a few minutes of me talking, the spirit, or spirits seemed to disappear._

 _Please Remus. I need to know what you think. You may think I'm mad, I won't mind you telling me. But I swear it really did feel like someone had been there._

 _I hope you don't mind me writing to you._

 _Harry._

 

After I finished sealing the letter and tying it to Hedwig I sat on my bed in bemused silence, my breath still shallow, my pulse beating rapidly. My tears had run dry long ago but my heart was nearly as heavy as it had been since Sirius died. It ached when he was here. I know he was here. It felt like him. I could almost smell him, his grassy, slightly citrus-y scent, and his impression of giving the room a numinous light, which seemed to pursue his presence. He had been here this afternoon, I know it was him I could just feel it.

And God do I miss him.

I miss him like nothing I've ever felt before. It's like how I miss my parents, just worse because I lost them so many years ago and I didn't know them. But I knew Sirius and missing him is just a constant dull ache, a hole in my heart and soul, which only Sirius filled.

I could hardly do anything that first week back here, I had to force myself to move, sleep, and eat. My eyes were constantly fogged with tears and every thought was painful and poignant. I cried for Sirius; the Sirius I loved, the Sirius I knew, the Sirius I had endangered. The truth was more agonising than I had ever contemplated.

"Sirius." I whispered my eyes filling once again with tears. The name was painful to even think - but to evoke it, to utter it audibly - Oh god I need him back so much.

I struggled to gain composure wiping the tears from my face viciously and taking deep ragged breaths. The loss of Sirius was incomprehensible at first, denial had been so easy... but Sirius had never left me alone, would never.

I don't know what to do without him. I have to deal a prophesy without him helping me come to terms with it, or with him telling me it will work out in the end. But he can't tell me that because he's gone. And I can't even blame one single person for that. It was mine, Dumbledore's, Kreacher's, Voldemort's, Bellatrix's and even Sirius' own fault he died, I can't hate him for leaving me alone. Nor can I hate Dumbledore, he just had Sirius' best interests and mine at heart, it just backfired on him.

I can blame and hate Bellatrix and Voldemort but what would be the point? I hate them already, they've killed innocent people before, it wouldn't matter if I said that they were the cause of the death of my Godfather, it would just be adding another name to the already gargantuan list.

I feel like my life is hopeless, that Voldemort's going to win and I'm going to die and he's going to plunge the world into darkness again. I need Sirius here, to hug me and tell me to keep faith because I do have the strength to beat Voldemort and that I will.

I wish you were here Padfoot so I could see you, talk to you, and embrace you. I wish you were alive Sirius because I miss you too much and I don't think I can go on much longer without you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the smallest I've written yet and it's just plain sob narrative stuff. Hope you don't mind. Please review with your thoughts and criticism.


	4. Remus Reminisces

There had been no stopping Sirius from leaving Number Twelve Grimmauld Place when word came that Harry and his friends had been tricked into going to The Ministry of Magic. Of course I hadn't really tried to stop Sirius, Harry had been more important. Besides, Sirius had been an excellent dueller. His wand moved so quickly and effortlessly that it had been difficult to distinguish each separate spell. What were the odds that Sirius would fail in duelling?

But it hadn't mattered that Sirius had been the top dueller in our year at school and one of the best in the Order. Sirius had failed, and to worsen the fact he had been defeated, he lost to his most loathed relative, Bellatrix Lestrange.

I had seen death before, especially seeing as I was involved with the Order of the Phoenix in the last war against Voldemort. But it doesn't make losing Sirius any easier though. I had restrained Harry from following Sirius through that dratted veil. Even though it was temping to pursue Sirius myself.

However Sirius had made me promise, just days before he had died, that if anything, absolutely anything happened to him, I had to swear I'd look after Harry.

I didn't need to be told twice about keeping Harry safe. After all, Sirius, Peter and I, had all sworn to James and Lily to take care of their son, when Harry had been born. Even though Sirius had been Harry's Godfather and official guardian, we were all to love Harry like he was our own. I hadn't minded, the Marauders were brothers, Harry was part of the new generation, and he had to be protected. Everyone had agreed that Harry was special, and we, well at least Sirius and I had been honoured that we'd even been asked to 'join' Lily, James and Harry's perfect little family.

I don't blame Harry for Padfoot's death. Even if Harry had been able to get in touch with Sirius before he left, Sirius would have gone to the ministry anyway, to help stop Voldemort. Sirius had been trapped for ages and I know he would have jumped at the chance to leave his childhood home. His impulsiveness always got him into trouble in the past.

I have to try and content myself with knowing that at least Sirius had gotten the chance to touch Harry's life and the people he cared for knew that he wasn't the traitor. But then the comfort disappears when I think about how Padfoot will never wrestle with the wolf, and that I'll never be able to hear that bark-like laugh of his and roll my eyes at his terribly lame jokes, funny, boisterous and crude as they were.

I keep thinking back to that night in the Department of Mysteries, and the deplorable feeling in my stomach tightens and squeezes, as I watch the scene I was too late to prevent play out in my head, and how Harry's voice held nothing but panic and fear, despair and disbelief.

If it is unfair that I was to lose my best friend, then it was a true crime for Harry to lose his Godfather, the closest thing to a parent he has had since his infancy. Despite my all-consuming sorrow, I feel this ominous need to be there for Harry. People like to natter about how much Harry is like James, but despite their unnerving appearance to each other, I'm sure that there is only one other thing they shared; and that was their need for Sirius.

My eyes drifted to the window where a bulky white snowy owl sat on the windowsill. She seemed annoyed as though me not noticing her was a personal insult.

I gently opened the latch on the windowpane and let the rather supercilious bird into the room. I untied the neatly attached letter and unravelled it cautiously. It was a letter from Harry but he only wrote to the Order yesterday, what could be the matter?

I suddenly realised why Sirius had 'over-reacted' every time he received a note from his Godson. Sirius had always gone wide-eyed and frantic, muttering audibly about the health of his Harry.

I felt the same at that moment. What could have happened to make Harry owl me already? He had never done this before.

After reading the correspondence I felt relieved and anxious at the same time. Harry is sensing spirits? It sounded rather far-fetched to me. It was well known that there had been only a handful of people who can sense spirits and some of them are muggles! But besides the hugely more favourable option of Harry daydreaming the whole occurrence, Harry has a horrible track record about being right about these kinds of things.

So despite me not believing in an afterlife and reincarnation being a much better arrangement, I wrote a memorandum to Harry stating that I'd have to see him and talk to him about everything. I wrote that I didn't doubt him, or his sincerity, but I had my qualms about what he had really 'sensed'.

After writing an overly detailed paragraph about how much I trusted and believed in him, I finally ended the correspondence and impatiently secured it to Hedwig.

After Hedwig left, I once again sank back into my fraying, faded armchair and stared at the wall. How was I supposed to help Harry? Would I be able to? It isn't like we're in school and I'm teaching him the Patronus Charm, which is based on facts. Facts are something I can deal with, something I've always dealt with. James was the one who liked opinions and theories; he always liked to prove them wrong (Or right depending on what he was defending.) I never liked to deal with such things. But now I'm going to have to analyse whether or not a fifteen, nearly sixteen-year-old boy can really perceive spirits. And if I find that he's wrong and he was fantasising, I'll have to break his heart.

He finds some comfort in Sirius the Spirit I'd imagine.

But unfortunately, he might be mistaken and that comfort will be ripped away from him again.

I weighed my options out logically. Careful to make sure I looked at the situation in a sagacious and indifferent way. I wouldn't let my feelings of sorrow and sympathy obstruct any reasonable way of thinking.

In the end I came to the obvious conclusion of talking and listening to Harry. I wouldn't be arrogant before I'd seen Harry, and saw what evidence he might have. And then of course I'd speak to Dumbledore; he'll know whether Harry could be one of those sacrosanct seers, psychics, mediums or whatever else you might call them. Dumbledore likes to think he knows Harry better than anyone, even Sirius and I; I'll have to put him to the test.

'But what if Harry is correct and he did sense Sirius?' A rogue voice in my head asked. 'What would you do, knowing that Harry can feel his Godfather but not see him or hear him? You'd be helpless Remus and you know you'd be faintly envious of Harry. Being able to sense something you can't have but want, even if it was a slight echo of Padfoot.'

Quickly, after cuffing my forehead with a palm to banish such thoughts away, I stood up heading to the fireplace to Floo to Grimmauld Place. I needed company and that's how I would keep such evil thoughts out of my head.


	5. And what about James' thoughts on the matter?

I always thought that the journey on September 1st was an exceptionally long and usually rather boring one. I lived in St Ives so I always had that horribly tedious ride to get to Kings Cross station and then all the way up to Hogwarts. And even though Cornwall is hours away from London and can be reached within minutes by Floo powder, my parents, however pure their blood, liked to do things the muggle way. Which meant I had to travel by car all the way to Bristol to catch a train to London.

When I asked my mother why we taking such a stupid amount of time travelling, I was told that I should learn to know how to use muggle transportation, as wizards have much to learn about their ingenious inventions. I didn't really understand it at the time, being twelve and having a short attention span. But during our escapades during the summer months us marauders used my expert muggle transport knowledge to the full.

That's how Sirius gained that giantess of a motorbike and Peter decided he got motion sickness on aeroplanes and threw up all over the seat in front of him.

But anyway, I always thought that travelling to and from Hogwarts was the worst, and most boring time spent anywhere, ever. I know better now. Having spent fifteen years dead and wandering around my version of Heaven, or the 'pleasant prison' as I have taken to calling it, those bloody hours spent in confined spaces of cars and trains were a blast compared to this.

I don't mean to be mordant but am I supposed to be grateful that I'm stuck in a world in which I can have everything I want except the people I miss most? The fact that we are stuck here until we join the next plane really does take the biscuit. We aren't allowed to move on from this plane of existence, this heaven, until we are ready to move on, until we are serene and at peace.

But how am I supposed to be at peace with my son suddenly obtaining clairvoyant tendencies, my best friend being able to move objects on Earth despite being dead, and the fact that The Hurricanes (my quidditch team here in heaven) aren't letting me play at the moment and are making me a substitute! I mean for Merlin sakes, existence is being rather hectic at the moment. Peace? No chance.

All right so I've always been the take-action type of bloke, but really, fifteen years spent stuck here would drive anyone up the wall. Most people have spent only a few years here, until they shimmer away leaving the spaces they once invaded empty and abandoned. But Lily and I? Nah we'll be here until the end of time or so it seems.

Lily doesn't seem to mind as much as me though. She visits Earth more often than me and spends lots of time sitting gossiping with our neighbours. She always has something, something, to do, to get on with. But I don't, I mean yeah sure I had quidditch to purge away some of this immortal existence but not much else.

Earth is a difficult place for me to visit for many reasons. One of them being it always makes me acutely aware of how much I miss my friends and son. Another is I hate seeing Harry always so unhappy, so unloved. I can't stand that he's with Vernon and Petunia Dursley. That they locked him in a cupboard and kept him unknowing about Lily and I, our pasts, and what he really is.

Every time I visit Earth I always return home ranting about Dumbledore and how Remus would have been a perfect parent for my Harry. Sirius was locked in Azkaban it wasn't his fault that he couldn't be with his Godson, to keep him happy, safe and loved. But Dumbledore stopped Remus from taking Harry. He rattled on about blood wards and protection that convinced everyone but me, Lily and perhaps himself. But if Sirius had been there, and God do I wish he had, for his own sake and Harry's, he would have kicked up a fuss. No one could stop Sirius when he got something stuck in his head. It'd be easier to squeeze blood from a stone. Which was how he got stuck in Azkaban in the first place. And here, come to think of it.

Sirius was always different. He always liked to be the one and only, like he still holds the most detentions in one term record, he has always been proud of beating me.

But earlier he actually touched an object on Earth. Being dead and all that's not supposed to ever happen again. So what the hell occurred earlier then? I mean yes Sirius likes to be unique but falling through the veil of death and coming to Heaven and actually being alive? No way, it just can't happen.

My mind seems to be jammed. I can't fathom how Padfoot did that. I really can't. Nor can Sirius or Lily. But there has to be a reasonable explanation for it. There must be.

Sirius can't return to Earth, he's dead.

And even if he could, how would that be fair? I mean Sirius gets brought back to life, so he can live with my son, so he can chat to Remus and yell at Dumbledore and maybe even catch that traitorous rat Pettigrew. It would not be fair. It wouldn't be fair on me, Lily, or anyone else who longs for their loved ones.

I don't want to sound hateful or glad the Sirius is dead or anything, but if anyone was to deserve to spend time with Harry it should be me. Not Padfoot. Not Dumbledore. Me. And God do I sound self-important, but really Harry is mine, and I died to save him.

I really hate being stuck here. It grates on my nerves. It's even making me loathe people who are or were trying to help my family and me. Being here shouldn't do that to me, and I shouldn't give in to moaning and complaining that takes place in my nightmares. I shouldn't even think such horrible thoughts here nor should I speak such obscenities aloud.

I should be at peace here. But I'm not. I detest every moment. I just want to leave and move on. But I won't. Not until I learn my lesson.

And Lily can't move on until I do. I can't be parted from Lily, my dear, sweet Lily. Sometimes I feel like giving up and wishing myself into a place that'll burn my soul and end my pain. But I won't. Lily needs me. And I need her.

I couldn't leave Padfoot either. He's my best friend, my confidant, and the person who understands me more than I do. He's a prankster at heart and I know that my death nearly killed him. I can't and won't leave him again.

Sometimes I'm so jealous of Padfoot it makes my eyes burn. He got to stay alive longer than me, he got to meet my son, his Godson, and he got to converse with the philological Remus. Sirius had it all really. I suppose you don't really know how much you've got until it's gone, and Sirius seems to be learning that lesson and taking it hard.

But he'll be fine. I'll be fine. We'll both get on with our existence until Harry and Remus get here. Then we'll be content. Then I'll be able to move on.

It'll be difficult though, having to cope with Sirius. Even though he's nearly twenty years older than me, he'll still be that hyper ol' Padfoot that Lily and I know and love.

"James? Oy, James? Jamesy baby boo!" The irritating voice of Sirius interrupted my thoughts and used the name my mother likes to call me. "James wake up!"

"I am awake Sirius." I said tiredly. "I have been since I got up this morning."

"Well then answer, you prat. Lily wants your help."

"With what?"

"We're off to see some council committee or something, she wants to talk to you before we go."

Ahh dammit. Lily is going to be in tears after today's fiasco, and we have to take Padfoot to see Heaven's Council. Why oh why does everything have to be so difficult?

"Yeah ok Padfoot. Uh why don't you get dressed up in something smart and I'll go and see Lily?"

Sirius wandered up the stairs, face contorted into a frown as he clambered the staircase, deep in thought. I trudged into the kitchen and sat in front of Lily who was sitting at the scrubbed pine table flicking through our photo album from Earth.

Harry appeared on the page, his chubby baby cheeks smeared in chocolate, his toothless mouth pulled into a grin as he waved sticky hands at the camera. Gentle hands pulled him up from his highchair and placed him on their hip. Lily's face came into view, as she pulled out her wand and made him clean. Harry although mute, was obviously giggling and tried to snatch the wand from his mother.

The real Lily gave a dry sob and I reached for her hand to comfort her.

"My baby." She said in a soft whisper. "I want him back. I want to talk to him. I need to hold him again...." She buried her face in her arms and clutched my fingers. "Tell the council to do something. I don't think I can go on seeing him so unhappy as he was. And God he's dreaming about us too. He's seeing our past. I read what he wrote on that notepad. I can't let the Committee do this to him. Do something James. Make it better." She was rocking slightly now, tears welling in her beautiful eyes. "What can I do? Do you think they'll listen to another distraught father? They have millions of requests. What makes us so different?" I didn't mean to sound so harsh but I know I did.

"But it's Harry!" She wailed. "Our baby, our son, the saviour of the wizarding world, the prophesised man who can destroy the Dark Lord forever...."

"But Lily..."

"No James. The council will do something about this. They will. I'll make them. I'll send Sirius down there to wreak havoc on Earth and then we'll see what they say!" Her eyes were burning with emotion and her tears had disappeared. She wasn't going to be timorous this time. No more contented Lily, she was going to make hell to get what she wanted. I know that from experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm quite happy with this chapter, please give your thoughts, I want to know if he's in character. Personally I think it's my best chapter yet, what do you think?
> 
> Please Review. Thank you for reading.


	6. Life with Lily

The colours were bright and happy; blues, greens and yellows. Pictures of brooms, snitches, Quaffles and Bludgers all moved lazily across the walls.

James had been in charge of the decoration, I remembered. I myself had charmed the pictures to move, after losing the argument about my muggle ideas on rainbows and ducks to create the perfect nursery.

Sitting there now, it felt like yesterday when we had first brought Harry into the room, laid him in his cot and stared at him whilst he slept. It was empty now although I like to pretend that Harry was only downstairs, being spoilt by his father and godfather.

The room itself was tidy; it had been even when Harry had lived in it. I like things neat and orderly, so nothing had changed. There were never teddies splayed about, no plastic blocks spilt on the floor, for someone to stand on. No, all the toys were on the shelf and in the cot. Muggle plastic shapes that my parents had bought were in their box, in the cupboard.

James had always said that tidiness was a bit unnatural and pointless, as it was only going to get messed up anyway.

I sometimes wonder why I have married a man so very different to myself.

At school James had been an utter prat, for lack of a better word. He played in the Gryffindor House Quidditch team, so thought himself as some kind of god for reasons that were beyond me. I had found his attention tiresome; I hadn't liked him at all. He was big-headed. He thought himself better than everyone else. He even bullied people.

That had all changed during a walk (unwilling and unintentional though it was) through Hogwarts castle in December in our seventh and final year. My relationship with him had changed, and for the better.

In the end he changed my life; he gave me a beautiful, sweet, kind-hearted son. I adore James. I adore Harry. No one in any world, in any universe, could love two people as much as I do my husband and son.

Of course I was supposed to be getting ready for going to see Heaven's Council, James went to get changed ages ago, so how I ended up sitting on a window-seat, looking at my babe's nursery, I can't fathom.

Actually that was a lie. I know why I am sitting here reminiscing about the past. It was because my son, my darling child, could loose the only man that he could remember loving him. Forever if that bleeding Committee had its way. I wanted to touch Harry, talk with him, and comfort him. How dare death get in the way of me being able to show Harry how much I love him? How dare the Council think that they could stop me from being with my baby? Sirius would set them straight, he always does.

Sunlight streamed through the window behind me, dancing through crystals and gems that I had placed on string to hang from the ceiling. I couldn't draw rainbows on the paint, so I made miniature versions with the crystals. Of course Harry had loved them, especially when I had flicked one, and it created dappled rainbows which he crawled after, babbling baby talk a mile a minute.

Before I realised, I was in tears again, great shuddering breaths I took to stem the flow, but before I could search about for a tissue or wish for one to appear, the polished oak door swung open and a stunned Sirius stood on the threshold.

He was wearing navy blue robes with what looked like a simple white shirt, and black trousers underneath. His once long, ratty black hair had been magicked shorter and neater and his teeth were gleaming as white as sugar, much as they had back at school.

Being in a place which catered to your every wish seemed to suit Sirius well. Very well indeed.

But before I could comment, Sirius had spoken, "I should have known that you would have kept this room."

"Why shouldn't I?" I retorted, feeling angry all of a sudden. How dare he judge me. How dare he!

"Because you're hurting yourself more keeping it, Harry isn't here. He's not going to be here for a long, long time if I can help it." I always knew that I could count on Sirius for telling me exactly what he thought. Remus, Peter and even James had always backed away in fear of fanning my supposedly terrific temper. Sirius of course had grown up in a house with a mother whose wrath would get you kicked from the house, inheritance, and family, so I suppose my anger probably paled in comparison.

When I didn't answer he carried on with a minute smile. "Look Lily I know how much you miss him..." I shot him a disbelieving look, "Ok so I don't, but I do know that he shouldn't be here, despite how much you miss him. Harry deserves to live, he hasn't been able to yet."

I sniffed, "Oh Sirius you've become such an adult."

"And you aren't?"

"Oh I am but I didn't think I would ever be able to say the same about you!"

"Well that's just rude. I think I'll have to retaliate with a couple of well placed dung bombs!"

We fell back into the sibling-like banter that was common with us. Nothing else of any importance or significance was said, just gentle remarks to placate the other.

"You've got to get dressed still. Wear something smart. Dress to impress and all that malarkey." Sirius grinned ruining the sage nod he'd given.

"Go downstairs and bother James then. Let me put myself together." I smiled back at him gently, dimple twinkling on my cheek.

Sirius stood up straight from where he had been lounging against the doorframe and strode forward and gave me a quick squeeze. "Don't worry too much about him, Lily." Stepping away from me, he gave a last beaming smile before disappearing downstairs.

I felt a deja-vu from fifteen years ago when Sirius had spoken the same words, just as James, Harry and I went into hiding. That state of affairs had not turned out the way I wanted, not at all, so I have the right to worry about the current affair.

Closing my eyes I felt the room around me shudder as I wished.

Harry's dimly lit room came into view when I opened my eyes again. Looking at the clock I read that it was just after four in the morning here, and my son was 'fast asleep'.

Harry had his knees near pulled to his chin under fraying sheets, his soot coloured lashes resting against hollow cheeks, dark shaggy hair falling into his face, as he slept. I took a deep breath and put my hand above his pale cheek, slowly I moved my hand as if to stroke his skin but as usual my hand went through him, and Harry inhaled slightly, shivering, curling up into himself even more, if it was possible.

I pulled back, as if burnt. So it wasn't my presence then. It was only Sirius that was able to touch things here. Damn it...

I stood back and glanced about the room, mellow pink-orange light illuminating everything through tatty curtains so I could inspect the place where Harry had once been kept behind bars, and fed through a cat-flap. It was a tiny room; though better than the cupboard... but not by much.

I could remember when I had first seen Harry in that god-forsaken cupboard under the stairs. How I had howled at my sister and brother-in-law. They hadn't heard me of course but screaming made me feel less useless. Less dead too.

James had been mutely furious. He hadn't said a word, just pulled my arm and quickly wished us back home to heaven. I hadn't been pleased with this, but had rushed off to Heaven's Council to get them to let either me or James go and sort everything out, and to change what was happening to my baby.

It was fruitless of course. "No meddling with mortals," Had said a heavily gowned, smug-faced idiot; when I shouted at him.

James had remained silent through my tirades when I got home, just gazed sadly at the family photos on the mantle piece.

"Why aren't you angry?" I had shrieked, "Don't you give a damn about your son?"

"We can't do anything." He had answered helplessly. "And of course I care. Don't ever think that I don't. I'll always care. I'll always love him."

I had then burst into hot, angry tears, falling into the waiting arms of my husband to help comfort me.

I snorted, pulling myself into the present, and tearing my staring eyes away from magnolia coloured walls of Harry's room. I had to get back. I had to set that damn Council straight. They'd listen to me this time. I had a Potter and a Black with me this time round, and they'd make the Council members fear for their health and sanity, if I wasn't listened to.

I wished myself back into my own room, after blowing Harry a kiss, and found myself calmed with its sky blue walls, and it's comfy, fluffy double bed.

I dressed myself into a set of deep purple, almost indigo coloured robes that James had said make me look extremely professional and scholarly. I desired that my tear marks and red eyes gone, and made up my face, whilst pulling shoulder length copper waves through a hair brush, and letting it sit free, framing my face.

Bounding downstairs I was met by the amusing sight of James looking ready to hex a grinning Sirius, who had crumpled James' hair into an even worse mess.

Standing next to James I ran my fingers through his hair to put it back into moderate order, and asked, "Ready to go?"

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you like Lily's characterisation in this chapter; I'm not too sure about her. So please give your opinions and thoughts. Thanks for reading!


	7. Mr Padfoot and the Council of Angels

Sirius looked about himself in surprise. This wasn't what he'd been expecting...

Not at all.

He had imagined a huge, light airy gallery sort of place. Not... this. This place was just...

Weird.

He, James and Lily had just wished themselves into a lift which had lead them straight into a crowded, busy office. This was the council of Angels? Nah, this was obviously a joke. Albeit a bad one on James' part.

There were files stacked haphazardly onto every available space, and many people in woollen white gowns were bustling about, shouting orders at their co-workers and, by the looks of it, being largely ignored.

There seemed to be many a glowing square of light hovering over some of the desks, where people were writing notes, as if they were analysing they were analysing what they were watching.

Sirius glanced about and found more glowing squares, the images on some of these were not exactly interesting, but one caught his eye; it showed what looked like a silver haired man lying in a hospital bed, with all kinds of barbaric muggle technology placed around and on and in him.

Frowning, Sirius turned and poked James between the ribs, “What are they doing to that old guy? Torture you reckon?”

James stared at the screen for half a second before attempting wandering over to have a closer look. Lily glowered at her husband and Sirius and growled threats under her breath, whilst yanking them over to a desk that was free.

"How can I help yeh?" A rattled, more than slightly chubby man asked, beckoning them to his desk, which was over-flowing with paper, parchment, pens and quills, folders and a large carriage clock.

Sirius found these... angels... rather disconcerting.

Usually you'd imagine angels to have auras of pure light around them, that they looked serene and calm, with white, white regal looking gowns and gentle eyes.

This bloke looked rushed off his feet, and his aura (if you could call it that) seemed that of a bored business man. Sirius found it hard to take the angel seriously as his beautiful gown had a smear of what looked like ketchup on his sleeve and crumbs sprinkled liberally on his chest.

This man was the one he would ask for help so so he could get back on Earth. Right. Yes.

“Er hello… Could I speak to someone in charge please?” James asked. He seemed to be starting off being polite whilst restraining a tight-lipped, glowering, Lily.

“Well, I’ll have to do for the moment, I’m afraid. Everyone else is busy.” The man pushed several folders aside to make room from a couple of chairs he’d been using as storage space. “Now sit down and then why don’t yeh tell me the problem.”

“Well I’m Sirius Black, this is James and Lily Potter,” Sirius gestured to each in turn and carried on. “We’ve come here to talk about how I go about returning to the living.”

The man sighed, apparently he wasn’t surprised, “Look yeh died, mate; yeh can’t go back.”

“I am aware that I fell through the veil of Death”, Sirius replied at once. “That doesn’t mean I’m dead.”

“Yeh wouldn’t be here and talking to me if yeh weren’t dead. Yeh can’t go back; end of story.”

“Look you!” Lily suddenly erupted, “If you don’t even look at his file then we shall go and tear down this place apart, drag someone from higher up to listen to us and have you demoted so low that you’ll feel the flames in the pits of Hell licking at your fat arse!”

“Och, look at tha' blumming file, Bob. We’re in enough trouble over the gerbil incident from las’ week!” An auburn haired woman at the next desk to theirs said, gave an imperious nod at her co-worker and returned back to her paperwork.

After muttering under his breath, the blob of an angel, Bob, went and found a file that had printed on it: Sirius Black, Wizard, Account No. 18395432. After peering at whatever was written inside, Bob frowned and seemed to analyse Sirius’ file, suddenly interested in the rather unusual life he had led.

“Animagus, escaped convict…bleeding ‘ell man you’ve done a lot in your short life, ey?”

Sirius gave into the urge to preen and smiled winningly, “Well, it wasn’t that difficult…”

“Did yeh know that it is no coincidence that yeh Animagus form is a dog, one that looks suspiciously like a Grim at that?” The bureaucrat surveyed them whilst pulling open a desk draw and unwrapping a large sticky bun.

Sirius noticed that the action seemed automatic and had to suddenly stifle a peal of laughter at the disgusted expression on Lily’s face.

Bob carried on his speech, oblivious, and Sirius tried to put his mind back onto the conversation.

“Now Celts thought that dogs and Grims could roam freely in between worlds (as in this world, Heaven and the livin’ world) and they often kept dogs to protect their families from the evil spirits that could also go from one world to another and such. They also believed that archways mark entrances and exits to, and from these worlds, and that anyone could go and visit the dead for a bit and return.

Now they were partly right, the archway that yeh fell through is an entranceway to this world but when yeh go through it yeh don’t return. But yeh’re a dog Animagus, right? So it means that by using the veil yeh can go and visit the livin’ world and be visible to the humans residing there.”

“So, what does that mean?” James asked, looking bored as he pulled at the thread at the bottom of his robes. He had never been the sort of person who did well, sitting through lectures. He had to cause destruction somehow. Whether it be a cloak, or a classroom.

“It means that Mr Black is able to travel between the realm of the living and this heaven. Course, he’d have to stay in his dog form and if he joined us, he’d get paid for scaring people to death. We’d give yeh a list of victims o’ course, Mr Black.” Sirius watched with amusement as Bob’s eye developed a glint, no doubt, because he might be able to get a raise out of this, and earnestly began to try to convince Sirius of the joys of belonging to the Grim squad or whatever the hell it was called.

James bit back a laugh and Lily smiled brightly.

Sirius tried to swim through the shock and found he could only focus on thinking, ‘Return to the living…visible to everyone…’

“What do yeh think, Mr Black? Working for the Council of Angels brings with it many benefits, including…” The Angel then rattled off several things that didn’t touch Sirius’ ears as his mind was wandering… Go back and be seen!’

“Er…” Sirius said eloquently when he saw Bob was waiting for a reply.

“He’ll be able to move between worlds without this Council’s help though won’t he?” Lily asked, green eyes alight, her hands gripping Sirius’ arm painfully tight.

“If he’s in his dog form, then yeah. But think of it Mr Black, if you join our experienced team of Grims then…”

“I’ll think about it.” Sirius said sharply, effectively silencing the plump Angel.

He could go back… even if it was in his dog form. Harry, Remus, Tonks and the rest of the Order, they’d be able to see him and hear him. He’d be able to comfort his godson and best friend. They wouldn’t look or feel so dreadful if he was there! Excitement filled his bones and he was unable to sit still, his heart pounding. He could help Harry, his Harry, who needed all the strength he could get to fight this war, and win.

“Going there alone means time limits, but if yeh join our ranks then…” Bob continued to babble, trying to impress him into going into a career of being the spectre of Death before people died.

“Look, I said I’d think about it.” Sirius snapped out, he then stood up and strode out of the stuffy, drab office that ironically housed the Council of Angels. Lily and James half ran to catch up with him as he stormed out, forcing a few bemused House Elves to jump out of his way.

He could go back.

He could go back, be seen and make a difference. Sirius transformed and bounded into the lift, hoping to hell that the Veil of Death wouldn’t be too far away.


	8. Homecoming

_It was all ashy greys and fuzzy details. Harry stood in the dark, vast, emptiness, a coldness settling in his bones._

 _When Sirius appeared, as he invariably did, all familiar face and dreary robes, the cloying emptiness brightened ever so slightly._

 _Sirius stared at him, grey eyes warm, yet sad at the same. He turned his hand palm-up and then reaching forward, squeezed Harry’s tightly, “Love you Harry.”_

 _“I know,” Harry assured him, tightening his hold on Sirius’ fingers._

 _“It’s all I’ve got to offer you; I know it’s not much…”_

 _“You’re wrong, it’s everything.”_

 _Sirius’ eyes glittered dimly, then all Harry could see shifted. Black shadows that had surrounded them were replaced by tattered material that swirled and moved in nonexistent wind._

 _Sirius was now shoving the heavy material away that was wrapping tendrils around various appendages, trying to tug him away, to banish him back into the veil._

 _Harry felt calm though; he gripped Sirius firmly and wrenched him hard. Sirius fell forward, and Harry caught him, pulled him upright again. As his godfather looked at him, eyes wide, Harry felt himself thaw._

 _“Okay?”_

 _“Yeah, don’t worry kid, I’m here.” Sirius’ rough, affectionate voice told him._

Harry awoke immediately, pulling his fallen duvet back over him as an after thought, cool night air rushing through the open window, chilling his room and making his toes numb.

Another wishful dream, he thought, peering at a streetlamp through fluttering, whispering curtains, his sleep for weeks had been tinged with them. Thoughts of long-gone parents, dead godfather must have seeped into his sleeping mind, dreams becoming wanting, hoping that they were there. Somewhere at least, so they could tell him what to do. Help him. Cheer him up perhaps.

Harry once again had to shove the common lonely feelings away and instead rolled onto his side and switched on his new lamp. The lamp wasn't exactly new though, it was Dudley's old Ninja turtle one that his aunt had found in the loft. She had been forced to root around for a replacement for his broken one, and she had yelled in that annoying screech of hers, how much of a demon child he obviously was. Violent too, breaking lamps. Harry ignored her, thinking that at least he wasn't going about attempting to break bones of the local neighbourhood children like her wonderful son did.

Harry hadn't said a word about his bullying cousin though, knowing that she would only get worse, calling him every name under the sun and patently not believing him. Despite that Dudley often came in stinking of smoke with blood on his knuckles. But as Harry had dealt with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's stupidity about their son on many occasions through his youth, he wasn't going to tell them again.

Harry pulled one of Dudley's old books off his bedside table and began to read. There was little entertainment in Privet Drive that he hadn't been banned from, so reading 'Lord of the Flies' was pretty much all he could do until daybreak. Harry was sure Dudley wouldn't know he'd taken it, the binding was still stiff and new, and Harry wasn't sure Dudley could even read, there was very little chance of him noticing a book of his was missing.

When Remus finally arrived at half-ten in the morning, Harry had already made the Dursleys and himself breakfast, cleaned the dishes and after his aunt's shrill coaxing, vacuumed the house top to bottom. Though why she thought Remus would venture into Dudley's smelly, messy room was anyone's guess. Harry privately thought she couldn't bare the stench and had forced Harry into tidying it so she didn't have to.

Remus was his usual shabby self when he rang the doorbell, though his robes looked even more worn, especially when surrounded by gleaming kitchen counters and highly polished wooden furniture that shimmered in the hazy sunlight.

When he had come through the front door Remus gave him a gentle clap on the back, and had wearily asked for a cup of tea.

Harry thought it surprising that whilst Sirius had given him rough, fierce hugs, Remus who Harry had known for longer, was so withheld from giving affection. Harry wasn't like Ron who became uncomfortable when held, he savoured it. Perhaps it was because he could count the amount of times he was hugged on two hands, he wouldn't mind Remus giving the occasional bout of cuddles.

Harry could sense that he wanted to reach out, yet he didn't and Harry felt sad for this broken, hurting man. Harry felt shame wash over him; here was Remus who had so many things weighing his shoulders down, nevertheless kept a smile on his face and carefully avoided contact with humans as much as possible as though people were repulsed by him.

Harry shoved his thought aside and placed a mug of tea in front of Remus, and then sat opposite, his fingers splayed on the table, twisting a piece of twine into knots.

He spoke haltingly of what he had seen that night, though regaling the whole thing, properly thinking it over it all sounded strange. Stupid.

However, he knew from experience that the Magical World was a strange, odd and rather stupid place sometimes.

After Harry went silent and the only thing to be heard was the riotous song of birds, Remus fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a white paper bag.

"Ginger bread man?" His voice was soft and scratchy and weirdly reminded Harry of a woollen blanket.

"Um… Sure. Thanks."

"I don't really… Harry, I do tea and sympathy not puzzle solving but bear with me." He paused, biting the head off his biscuit. "I don't know what you saw was real, or if it was your magic or something, trying to comfort you. I'm worried though Harry; no not for your sanity, no need to look at me like that. No I mean, if it was him, it means he will do anything to get back."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"I know Sirius, he'd do anything to be at you side. If he does manage to come back and I couldn't ever guarantee it, he would most likely have to give up his humanity.

No one comes back past the veil unscathed. I don't think you'd want him back if he's not human Harry. It wouldn't be him, a shadow of him.

There are studies you see, of ghosts and other creatures of the dead sort. Oh yes there are ways to come back to this plane, but it does come at a cost."

Harry stood when Remus paused for breath, shaking his biscuit crumbs from his tee shirt into the sink, and then fixed Remus with sad eyes. "I get that okay. But all I know is that I want to see him."

"If anything happens, and there's more a snowball's chance in hell Harry, that he'd be different. He wouldn't be him."

"I'll take that into consideration if he ever does appear again then."

Remus nodded solemnly and seeming not knowing what else to say, decided to make his escape. "I best be off, Dumbledore wasn't keen on letting me here in the first place, so best not to dither."

The warm summer breeze fluttered the frilly, fussy curtains and Remus sighed.

"Right. So if you need me Harry, I'm only on the other end of the floo or owl ok?"

He reached and patted Harry gently on the shoulder again "Take care hmm."

"Right back at you."

As they both turned to go into the hallway, there was a sudden great crash and irritated barking from the back garden. The dustbin had fallen over by the sounds of it.

Rushing to the door, Harry nearly fell backward when he saw the garden.

There were plants ripped out, rubbish scattered about like a bomb had exploded and in the middle of it all, a great hulking dog.

"Snuffles." Harry breathed, his eyes never leaving the ecstatic canine.

"Padfoot? Merlin." Was the only thing Remus said as he steadied Harry with gentle hands and slid open the patio door.

The dog barked once and then transformed into a man. A grinning man who kicked a path through the debris and pulled his Godson into a hug.

"Hey kiddo. How've you been?"

Harry's first thought, as strong, warm, real arms wrapped around him was that he had finally come home, for the first time in years.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, I wrote this fic a long time ago but I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope you review and give me any of your opinions.
> 
> I suppose I'd better do a disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other character, location, or whatever mentioned in the works of J.K. Rowling. I also do not own The Lovely Bones, in which many of the ideas originate from.


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